


Equilibrium

by Xela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fantasy, Object Insertion, One-Sided Relationship, Sexual Fantasy, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 07:25:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xela/pseuds/Xela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has fantasies he only lets out to play when it gets to be Too Much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equilibrium

Sam has fantasies he only lets out when he can't deny them anymore. When the desire slams against the locks in his mind and starts slipping into his thoughts. Dirty things that mean he can't concentrate, can't study, can't touch Jess without feeling guilty.

Jess has learned to read the signs. She'll schedule a girl's weekend somewhere and leave Sam alone at home to find his way back to equilibrium. Sam loves her for that, for not asking questions and simply accepting there are things he can't share with her—can't share with anyone and only with himself when he can't push it aside anymore.

Sam lays out his instruments like this is a ritual. A small hand towel on one side of his bed. A couple of candles scattered around the room: cinnamon, oakmoss and musk. A bottle of lube. A thick glass dildo with green ridges spiraling down to the tip.

Sam strips off his clothes and lays them on the chair in the corner.

He stands in front of his mirror and surveys his body. He has a runner's phisique, lean and tall, though he's gained more muscle mass over the years. He's not the gangly teenager who showed up at orientation without any clue how to live in the normal world. Most of his scars have faded into pale lines only visible upon close inspection. Jess has learned not to ask about the stories behind them. He's still used to people who know how he got each and every one, people who patched him up in the aftermath.

Sam runs his hand down his flat chest. He circles his nipples, brushes over his stomach. His abs are defined when he flexes and he enjoys the valleys and peaks between them. He imagines touching another man this way, feeling how soft belly changes into hard muscle.

Sam's fingers skate over his ribs and down his stomach to curl in the coarse hairs that frame his erect cock. Sam grips himself loosely, teases himself with easy, unhurried strokes. In his mind, his lover laughs at Sam's impatient growl and teases him with taunting kisses. Sam manages to catch him in a kiss, long and passionate and awesomely sloppy because they can't be bothered with finesse.

Sam's desire grows and he can't wait anymore. He asks for what he needs in short gasps and insistent hands. Nimble fingers bite into Sam's backside, leave half-moon imprints in the pale globes. A finger slips between his cleft and circles the wrinkled pucker there, ignoring Sam's desperate pleas for more. They're not moving at Sam's pace; Sam's going to have to wait.

When a slicked finger finally plunges in, Sam sags with relief. He needs more, so much more than this. His lover seems to sense his need and quickly adds more fingers. The stretch burns because it's been too long since he last did this. But gods, he needs it.

Sam flips on to his stomach and slides his knees towards his chest. In his mind, his lover slides into him smoothly and Sam sighs in contentment. They start out slow, because there's time for fast later. They move together easily and Sam cries out as his prostate is hit, repeatedly. He has to grit his teeth against the overwhelming pleasure because this can't end yet, he's not ready for it to be over.

His hips speed up, faster and faster. He sobs into his pillow, bites it as tears leak out of his eyes.

_So good._

He turns his head and pants into the air, eyes tightly shut. He's holding off by sheer force of will alone. But he's only human, and he can't take much more. Sam opens his eyes and sees himself reflected in the mirror, dildo sliding in and out of him, warmed by his body to human-temperature.

The image is supplanted by one of his fantasy man behind him, pumping into him, muscles chorded with effort. He sees the man's face twist in pleasure as he comes, head thrown back. Sam hits his prostate and comes with a loud cry, one name falling from his lips like a prayer of thanks.

Sam collapses on the bed, sweat slicking his back and come on his stomach. He feels lighter now, his burden alleviated for the time being. He can feel the dildo in his ass, hard and unyielding glass. He wonders what Jess would think if she knew he had it. He leaves it there, a reminder. He wants to feel this tomorrow, every time he moves. Even if he can never have Dean, he wants to pretend for a little while.


End file.
